<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Asteria's Legacy: Rising by StarLight13 (MajesticMauveMaverick)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631093">Asteria's Legacy: Rising</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajesticMauveMaverick/pseuds/StarLight13'>StarLight13 (MajesticMauveMaverick)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Asteria's Legacy [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Courtship, Draco Malfoy Has a Sibling, Female Draco Malfoy, Genderbending, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings &amp; Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Severus Snape is Lord Prince, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:47:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajesticMauveMaverick/pseuds/StarLight13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry Potter had knowledge of the wizarding world before turning 11? What if Draco was the younger Malfoy daughter, Asteria Malfoy?<br/>Tutored by his grandmother and later adopted by Sirius, Harry makes choices that alter the course of his destiny.<br/>With Voldemort gaining influence beyond the Dark faction, the fate of the wizarding world reside on the slender shoulders of Asteria. How will Harry and Asteria navigate these complications?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Asteria's Legacy [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've recently joined Ao3. This is my first attempt at a fanfiction.<br/>I'm not British and English isn't my first language. So please forgive me for any glaring errors.<br/>(not beta-red)<br/>Disclaimer: All characters, settings and concepts belong to J.K. Rowling.<br/>This is just my appreciation for the wonderful world of HP.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat back in his high-backed chair, gazing at the dozing portraits and innumerable scrolls, journals and books showcased in his office library. Over the years, he had tried to gather all the knowledge and wisdom he could get his hands upon, and it was reflected by his collections. But theory and experience had failed him once, and it had done so again. Two young boys, potentially powerful and orphaned. He hadn’t aided one, following his instinctive suspicion to wait and watch. Over the years, the boy grew in power, achieving heights of magic, cruel and dangerous. The old wizard had acted as a guardian for the other, placing him amongst his family, not an orphanage. The Uprising had proven that his plan was insufficient to protect Harry Potter, the last of a great line of wizards.</p><p> <br/>
When Harry was about to turn ten, there had been a series of simultaneous, well-planned attacks by Death Eaters, members of a cult led by the self-styled Lord Voldemort. Both muggles and magical folks had been tortured and killed; the Dursleys were unfortunate enough to be included in the list of tortured. The timely intervention by the aurors had saved them; though it exposed the existence of their nephew, living in a cupboard under the stairs. It had caused a furore, as the press had relished exaggerating the abuse suffered by the son of the beloved Potter couple. There had been many rumours regarding the boy’s death, subtly encouraged by the Headmaster and his supporters, since just two bodies had been recovered from the destroyed cottage at Godric's Hollow.</p><p>His plan to wipe the memories of the Dursleys and return to status-quo, was squashed by Mrs Euphemia Potter petitioning the Ministry’s Office of Wizarding Welfare and Conflict Resolution, for the custody of her grandson. Thus, Harry had spent the last year with his grandmother at the Potter House, learning about the wizarding world.</p><p><br/>
Dumbledore had wanted the prophesied child untainted by the dark shadows of wizarding politics before stepping into Hogwarts. It would have made it easier to cultivate Harry’s mind, prod him to his accept his destiny to fight in a war, that would soon come knocking on their door. <br/>
Getting up, Dumbledore approached the perch of Fawkes, stroking the phoenix slowly as he pondered his options. His method of persuasion would need to be tailor-made for the boy arriving tomorrow evening. <em>Harry Potter could not be allowed to go off-track</em>, he thought. <em>There was too much at risk</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Feedback is most appreciated. And any ideas or thoughts that can aid my writing is most welcome.<br/>If there are any errors, pls tell me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this fic, boys and girls of the pureblood society are exposed to the idea of marriages and marital duties from a young age. They mature earlier. Betrothal contracts are signed by the families, often around 16 years of age (girl). Then it needs to be registered and magic-approved to be established.<br/>While sexual acts are discouraged before marriage, many youngsters ignore it. But no penetrative acts of sex before 16 (atleast not described). I think many countries consider 16 as age of consent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asteria Dione Malfoy took a sip of her champagne, surveying the ballroom of the Macmillan Estate. It was crowded and noisy, with couples dancing, men chatting about business and politics while their wives, daughters and companions clustered around to gossip and giggle. The celebration was in honour of the engagement of the daughter of Lord Macmillan to the Rowle heir. Asteria felt that the gold encased chandeliers were tacky and the giant pink peacock at the entrance clashed with the white marble Greek sculptures. Pansy agreed, though she found the decorations amusing, rather than disgusting.</p><p>“What can you expect from the girl who had publicly screamed after her betrothed agreement was established?” Pansy remarked snidely, watching the happy couple twirling at the dance floor.</p><p>It had been entertaining, Asteria remembered. Macmillan’s sudden screech upon opening the contract, had startled a few students into dropping their goblets and fork filled with food down their laps. Not only had her banshee-like screech reverberated around the Great Hall, but she had further humiliated herself by jumping up and down like a bunch of uncouth muggleborns. <br/>“She is lucky her fiancé is not present,” Daphne had murmured, “He might have risked his future to break the contract, after witnessing this.”</p><p>“I will engage the services of Madame Emilia for my celebratory feast.” Pansy’s voice brought Asteria back from her musings. From a very young age, her closest friend had been planning her engagement and wedding. The Parkinsons’ only daughter was by no means a classic beauty. She was a mix of sharp tongue, good breeding, seductive inclinations, substantial wealth and a loyal heart beneath the abrasiveness. Growing up amidst indifferent parents and quite older brothers, she had found a kindred spirit in Asteria Malfoy, only daughter of the Malfoys. From complaining about their siblings, to escaping etiquette lessons and sampling tarts at the Malfoy Lake House grounds; they became close confidants. Their playdates and later visitations over tea, became an escape from the stifling world of courteous manners and docile behaviours expected of the pureblood ladies. </p><p>Daphne Greengrass, heiress of the Greengrass family had befriended the duo just before starting Hogwarts; the Uprising of 1990 leading to the arrest of the-then Lord Greengrass, Daphne’s uncle paving the way for the acquaintance.</p><p>“The prick should have died, rather than gotten arrested,” Daphne had hissed, when narrating the harrowing circumstances of the Greengrass family. “The following months almost made me want to live with my aunt in Finland, for Salazar’s sake”. Social disgrace was nothing to laugh at, Asteria had realised listening to Daphne’s account of the effect the aftermath of the Uprising had on her family. <br/>Though the friendship was aimed at improving their stand among the pureblood circles, by the end of the 1st year at Hogwarts, Asteria had genuinely liked having Daphne as a friend. After all, her mother had reminded her, most of the acquaintances and relatives in their social circle were creatures of benefit. <em>Connections, whether made for business or pleasure, had to have some advantages for both parties involved</em>- Lucius Malfoy had taught his children.</p><p> <br/>“Daphne seems to be enjoying herself,” Asteria commented, finishing off her drink. “She’ll eat Boot alive,” Pansy snorted, “He looked like he was about to propose marriage when she consented to dance with him.” <br/>“Speaking of dances,” the blond enquired, “why are you sitting at a corner table?” <br/>“I could ask you the same question”, pat came the reply. “There are many deserving candidates to choose from…” Pansy waggled her eyebrows. <br/>Asteria forced a smile, shaking her head. She could dance all night with Dukes and Princes, but it would be all the same. There was <strong>only</strong> one boy she wanted to chat with, twirl the dance floor and rest her head upon. But it seemed like an impossible dream. Pinning was for silly maidens, for princesses from the fairy tales; not for almost thirteen-year-old, pureblood daughters of Ancient and Noble Houses who knew that one day, they would be betrothed into a prestigious, noble family.</p><p>As Pansy left the table to mingle with her cousins, Asteria glanced over to the raven haired boy she had avoided looking at, throughout the evening. He was chatting with two witches, one of whom was Spanish, judging by the style of her outfit. Heir Harry Potter looked striking in his deep green velvet waistcoat, paired with light grey dress-shirt and even darker green trousers. The rimless round glasses made his vibrant green eyes stand out. His hair was arranged artfully for a roguish charm effect, instead of the usual uncombed look. She quickly reverted her gaze to her brother, who was coming towards her. <br/>“Father is asking for you, 'Ria” he informed, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow as she stood up. “He wants to introduce us to a potential investor.”</p><p>Valerius Lucius Malfoy, heir to the vast Malfoy fortunes, shared many physical and character traits with his father; platinum blond hair, sharp nose, contemptuous smirk and an arrogant demeanour. But unlike her father, Asteria knew that Val had a few redeeming qualities. Foremost being that he cared about his family, especially his younger sister.</p><p>Leonardo Alcazar, a Viscount by inheritance, wanted to venture into Wizarding Britain's business sphere and had been ensnared by Lucius for a partnership. Asteria could feel the Viscount’s son blatantly staring at her throughout the conversation, a fact that was noticed by both male Malfoys. Subtly, Lucius was able to manipulate Santiago Alcazar into asking his daughter for a dance.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She looked like a vision in grey, the crystals in her gown paling next to the beauty of her smile. Harry had spent the entire evening stealing glances at Asteria, admiring her aristocratic visage and her graceful movements. There were women in the room with more flamboyant gowns, fabulous jewellery and eye-catching headgear; but his Asteria really outshined the others. A simple diamond bracelet and grey-pearled headband was enough. She always preferred to dress simply, his little star. Svelte, graceful but cold, the youngest Malfoy looked like the perfect product of the long line of infamous but prosperous wizards. </p><p>Harry remembered the first time he saw her, gliding towards the Slytherin table after her sorting. As her name was called out, he had looked curiously at the girl sharing the same name as that prat Valerius. And he had kept staring at her, until his own name had been called out. Convincing the Sorting Hat to place him in Gryffindor, to honour the memory of his parents and expectations of his grandmother, Harry had felt a moment of regret on his way to the house table. Of not being in the same house as the girl with mesmerising grey eyes, the shining platinum blond hair and radiant smile. She had a haughty look on her, he’d observed as he sat next to Neville, similar to the one worn by her brother, sitting beside her. They had looked like twins, despite Valerius being a second-year student.</p><p>Now, watching her dance and smile at other lads all evening had been difficult. He wasn’t sure what always made him look at her whenever she was in his vicinity. Whether she entered the classrooms or the Great Hall or even the library. They had hardly ever spoken to one another, just a few times during potions when partnered. But she drew his eyes. He was mesmerised by the barely noticeable expressions that she could never quite control, despite wearing a blank mask in public. He’d often exchanged heated words and the occasional shove with her brother, snarked and taunted his Slytherin year-mates; but always avoided any direct confrontation with her. Always her.</p><p>His little star.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a href="https://pin.it/1t3F19U">Asteria</a><br/><a href="https://pin.it/jadrz4X">Dress</a><br/> <a href="https://pin.it/1mtmDE6">Valerius</a><br/>Just some inspirations!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this fic, the pureblood societal culture is restrictive and regressive. I have taken some elements from my imaginative Victorian era and some from present day conservative societies that I have personally witnessed. So, keep in mind that it's not my own views that I project here.<br/>Please leave kudos or comments if you want. It keeps a writer motivated :)</p>
<p>Some explanations given at the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Euphemia Potter sat in the parlour, waiting to bid farewell to her grandson leaving for his third year at Hogwarts. It seemed like yesterday that James was running around the house, looking for his belongings since he had kept packing his trunk for the very last minute. Even after repeated reminders, James always left the packing for the 1st of September. She could almost hear his frantic demands to the house-elves, her husband’s fond admonishments adding to the mix. <em>I miss them so much</em>, she thought, looking at the photographs placed on the floo mantle. Unlike her son, Harry had already packed and was ready for travel.</p>
<p>A year after his marriage, James Potter had lost his father to dragon pox. Grief stricken and gravely ill, Euphemia had gone into seclusion. Just as she had started recovering, hoping to meet her grandson, the news of their tragic murder had reached her. Her beloved son, her darling James was no more, and Lily and Harry too. She would never get to see her grandson, hold him or dote on him. It had put too much strain on her mind and body, driving her to an almost catatonic state. It was thanks to Dowager Lady Rosier, who had hired a specialist healer from Belize, that she could recover at all. Despite the long list of potions and the muggle physical therapy she did, her health remained fragile due to her soul-crushing grief. Why had she been spared and not her son? He had been a young man, just starting his family…. so full of life and happiness.     </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finishing his breakfast, Harry entered the parlour to find Euphemia reading a letter. He sat on the antique divan and waited for her to look up. “It’s from Sirius,” she informed, handing him the letter with a small smile. “He’s coming back. Before Halloween, by his estimation.”<br/>
Harry didn’t know how to react to that, so finished reading the letter. Over the last two years, he had corresponded with his godfather occasionally; mostly polite and meaningless in nature, interspersed with a few bland anecdotes. He had a distinct impression that despite not knowing much about his father, Sirius expected him to be similar to Sirius’s best-friend. Maybe he was disappointed that his godson was different; or perhaps Harry was reading too much into the inked words. “Good! Maybe he can visit us this Christmas,” replied Harry, putting the letter down and nearing the elderly lady. She smelled of the bitter potions she drank each day, underneath the vanilla scent of her perfume. He leaned forward to kiss her soft, wrinkled cheeks before sitting on the armrest.</p>
<p>“The paperwork will be completed by next Friday, so a representative from Messrs Viridian will arrive with it,” he reminded her. The process of acquiring the patents for Sleakeazy’s Hair Potion and Skele-Gro had been tedious, the past few months testimony to the never-ending negotiations. Despite Potters being the inventors of said products and Messrs Viridian being reputed Estate Managers, the acquisition had been difficult. Harry had been ready to threaten violence, but Euphemia’s frail health and his fame had held him back. But now, the deal would start churning profits for the Potter WhizInc.</p>
<p>Euphemia smiled, patting his hand. The boy had come a long way, from a wary child to a confident teenager. His hesitancy, bordering on awkwardness and naivete on matters of conduct had rattled her, after being given his custody. But gradually he had opened up to her, and agreed to tutorial sessions for his wizarding education. From business to etiquette and dancing to flying, he had progressed in each of his lessons, according to the tutors.</p>
<p>Just then their house-elf Bodky popped. “Master be late for Hoggywards. I is remainding.”</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“How was Egypt?” Neville enquired as Harry settled beside him. The lack of empty compartments had forced the duo to share one with Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan. “It was fantastic, bloody brilliant!” Ron gushed, as though he had just been waiting for someone to ask him about his summer. The third member of the Gryffindor Trio- Dean Thomas would directly floo to Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t paid attention when Seamus had explained the reason. And he tuned out as Ron went into the details of his trip.</p>
<p>Ron Weasley had tried his best to befriend the Boy Who Lived during the train ride and throughout the first few weeks of their 1<sup>st</sup> year. While Harry maintained a friendly demeanor, he much preferred the calm, confident and compassionate Neville Longbottom to Weasley’s high-spirited, brusque and opinionated self. It had taken Harry some months and a discussion with Nev, to realise that Ron wanted to be a friend of the ‘Saviour’, rather than ordinary Harry who was more wary of his popularity. His interview with The Daily Prophet, weeks after his custody establishment, had taught him that the double-edged sword of fame was more hindrance than help. It had been a big relief when Weasley had found like-minded friends in Thomas and Finnigan, abandoning his aggressive pursuit of friendship. But Harry was quite close to the trouble-making Weasley twins and their sister.</p>
<p>After Harry and Neville had purchased snacks from the trolley lady, the Gryffidors settled down. Looking out the window, Harry thought about his third year. He was excited about the Hogsmeade visits, but sceptical about his electives. But mostly he was worried about his grandma’s failing health. The healer had expressed concern that the potion regime was becoming ineffective. And he had mixed feelings regarding meeting Sirius. </p>
<p><br/>
A commotion drew his attention towards the corridor. He could hear Weasley shouting and saw Finnigan’s scowl. Nev must have gone to meet his Hufflepuff friends. Leaning against the door, he saw Malfoy along with Crabbe and Goyle taunting Ron and his sister. It was easy to wind up the redhead, and Harry generally enjoyed when their Housemates pranked or teased him. But insulting Ginny’s honour and calling Ron a ‘blood-traitor’ was too much.</p>
<p>“You’re a prick, Malfoy. Just bugger off,” Harry called out, drawing his wand.</p>
<p>“Ah! Our baby hero,” Valerius drawled, as his henchmen snickered. “Still as plebeian, I see. Mucking among the filth.” </p>
<p>Harry stepped forward, toe-to-toe with Malfoy. “Why don’t you take your poncy arse and run from here like the coward that you are, bloody chav.”</p>
<p>Before starting Hogwarts, Harry had met his rival Quidditch Seeker at a Ministry function that he had attended with the Longbottom matriarch and her grandson. It had been their first social appearance after Alice Longbottom’s demise in the Uprising, and Harry’s first social event in the wizarding world. Valerius had come upto Harry, expecting the new lad to be in awe of the Malfoy heir introducing himself. But his arrogant attitude had put Harry off, though he had remained polite. But listening to him commiserating with his cronies about the ‘Mudbloods’ being given higher positions than the ‘deserving purebloods’, Harry had had enough. Their heated exchange had drawn quite a few eyes. The rest was history.</p>
<p>As their exchange grew heated, more people started to peak outside their compartments. Fellow Slytherins and Gryffindors also joined in egging on their respective sides. The Potter-Malfoy rivalry was popular in Hogwarts, adding to the infamous House-rivalry. </p>
<p>“Hey tosser,” Ron screamed, “go bugger your cunt-of-a-sister and leave the rest of us alone.” Harry whipped his head to frown at the redhead, who had just punched a Slytherin.</p>
<p>“Aye,” Seamus added, joining the fray, “I know yer ‘hole scum-o'-a-Death Eater family takes it up th' arse from yer Master. Worse than two-bit whores, th' lot-o'-ye”</p>
<p>Before anyone could react, Valerius let lose a dark curse, by the sound of it. Finnigan’s eyes started to swell shut. A hex from a Gryffindor deflected against Nott’s shield before several prefects broke up the gathering. As the corridor started to empty, Harry glimpsed the long, white-blond hair of Asteria, face averted as others rushed past her. As their eyes met, he saw the hurt and humiliation in them, though she retained her expressionless mask. Unlike other girls, she would not cry in public.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he slowly made his way back, Harry wondered if they were any better than the so called ‘Death-Eater-wannabes’. They espoused a similar-yet-inverted philosophy. Ron and Seamus insulted women, objectified and abused them in retaliation of their women being insulted. If these DE wannabes sprouted bigoted views, these ‘Light-wingers’ were equally spreading Ministry propaganda. The Order and Ministry supporters had used and sanctioned Dark Arts &amp; torture in the First War against the Death Eaters. Yet they claimed the moral high-ground of being just and empathic. And technically, Valerius’s mocking had been milder in comparison to Weasley, who had openly insulted a lady of a prominent pureblood family, who practised the Olden Ways. </p>
<p>Harry had wanted to apologize to his star for those comments, but couldn’t. Not only was he from a different House and had never informally conversed with her, her brother hated him and he was involved in the whole fiasco. And to top it off, he was a half-blood, despite belonging to the Sacred Twenty-Eight families (Revised Edition). He just longed to hold her, just for a moment. Had she been his, he would have called for the Blood Rite and trounced her offenders publicly. <em>How bloody dare they</em>! </p>
<p>He knew that she had never been unchaperoned with a male stranger, much less let a man touch her. And unlike some of the other purebloods in Hogwarts, she never appeared to take advantage of the relaxed decorum at Hogwarts. There were no rumours about her regarding any unseemly behaviour. So, it must’ve been horrifying to be libelled in such a vile manner! In front of so many students, who would no doubt gossip about it. His heart hurt for her, even as he remained pissed at the Gryffindor Duo.    </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>•Euphemia Potter, though pureblood, doesn't follow the Olden Ways anymore and is tolerant of many muggle methods and ideas. She loves Harry and regrets that she couldn't raise him up.<br/>The inspiration for <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&amp;source=imgres&amp;cd=&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiv9eia7P7pAhXvxjgGHYU8BMMQjRx6BAgBEAQ&amp;url=https%3A%2F%2Fpetticoatsandpistols.com%2F2020%2F03%2F17%2Fparlor-or-living-room-supper-or-dinner-what-the-heck%2F&amp;psig=AOvVaw0_2zhBBoEsvhBUy8XdV1dw&amp;ust=1592139563892834">parlour</a><br/>•Sirius's back-story will be revealed as story progresses.<br/>•My Harry is different from canon Harry 'coz of his goals and motives. He has some similarities like doesn't believe in blood-purity but some differences too...lets wait &amp; see!<br/>•Since Alice was part of Nev's life till he is 10, he's a lot more confident and secure about himself when he starts Hogwarts. Still clumsy at times.<br/>•Ron and Harry friendship won't be part of this. Since Harry's backstory is different, the premise of first friend (of his own age) isn't there. Plus being the 6th child in a poor family can make one seek fame and identity of their own. And I didn't like Ron's actions in 4th yr and during Horcrux hunt.<br/>•Gryffindor Trio- Ron Dean and Seamus. Harry and Nev aren't as attention seeking. Just their family tragedy. So, the Slytherin students hate the trio more.<br/>•Light-wingers -&gt; my term for the people in the light faction, opposite to the DE wannabes. Kinda like Right-wing politicians type<br/>•The Revised Sacred 28, published sometime in late 1950s, adds the Potters and removes the Gaunts as extinct family line.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>High Priestess Elder Auriga sighed, glancing at the night sky with the twin moons of the Elven realm. The cool autumn wind stirred her long white tresses, making her pointed ears tremble. It had been lonely, living as the sole surviving member of (an extinct race of elves)- the Lunar Elves. The once mighty creatures had been reduced to a mere group due to in-fighting, lack of sustenance and enemy attacks. And that group had fallen prey to betrayal, leading to her living a life of pain and guilt. As a young elf, she had sought asylum in the land of the High Elves and Dark Fey.</p><p>The failure of the<strong> <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756964">Great Concord</a> </strong>centuries ago, had resulted in the present state of affairs in the magical world. The balanced flow of the natural magic, that tied all mythical beings to the land had been disrupted. As time went by, it weakened further. And everyone was suffering the consequences.</p><p>"<em>Im estel cin tur- echuiv-I anrad, nin hén</em><a href="#_ftn1" id="_ftnref1" name="_ftnref1"><sup>[1]</sup></a>," she whispered, standing at the circular veranda overlooking her suite. "<em>Cin mel gwedhi-I maethor na cin. Onlui cin lain i-faer, tur-I lond n-edr</em>.<a href="#_ftn2" id="_ftnref2" name="_ftnref2"><sup>[2]</sup></a>"</p><p>With one last look at the sky, she went inside. It was time to let destiny take its course.</p><p>**</p><p>Far away, in another realm, a young girl tossed and turned in her bed, chasing restful slumber. She saw visions, in bits and pieces, of unseen places and unknown faces. Some she could recall, some she forgot as she woke up tired, foreign emotions coursing through her. It was not new to her, these weird dreams or <em>visions</em>, as she later identified them as. Strange, disjoint glimpses of the past and future; symbols &amp; languages that were mysterious yet seemed meaningless. For years she’d searched for answers, from the vast array of books and scrolls in her family libraries and vaults; spoke to the portraits of her ancestors. But she had yet to find them.</p><p>A '<strong>seer</strong>' was revered in the wizarding community, considered as a high honour to be blessed by Mother Magic with the Sight. But it had its pitfalls too- the pressures and expectations, manipulation and exploitation, the sense of alienation, the instantaneous hatred and blame after incorrect predictions. Manifesting her Sight at the age of 5, after ‘<em>The Incident’</em><a href="#_ftn3" id="_ftnref3" name="_ftnref3"><strong><sup>[3]</sup></strong></a>; it had taken her three years to realise that while others dreamt and suffered nightmares, her ‘weird dreams’ were not the typical wizarding dreams. She had powers that were termed as the <strong>Gift of Sight</strong>, the wizards/witches commonly referred to as seers. But instead of sprouting prophesies like the Almas (or Delphina seers), she had the power to see and navigate her visions. These seers were known as the Sesanti (visionary seers). By that time, she had been old enough to understand the price one paid to be unique. Especially in her society. So, she had kept her visions and therefore, her unique powers a secret. Or atleast tried her best to.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Despite a good night’s rest, Harry had been reluctant to wake up early the next morning. Trudging towards the showers, accompanied by Ron’s snores, Harry finished his morning ablutions and prepared for the day. Coming down to the stairs, he found Neville and Fred chatting near the entrance to the common room.</p><p>“…Took <em>every</em> last one of them, all under McGonagall’s hawkish gaze.” Harry caught the tail-end of Fred’s tale as he joined the boys.</p><p>“Assigned any detention?” Neville asked as he pushed open the portrait and climbed out.</p><p>Fred shrugged, “Nah, just arrived and all. But we were given an ‘Official Warning’. Its s’pose ‘to deter us from any sort of pranking’, for the ‘hole year.” His imitation of their Head of the House was quite impressive. They all knew that no piece of paper could prevent the twins from pranking, that too for the entire year.</p><p>As the three made their way to the Great Hall and began their breakfast, Fred recounted how Filch had checked the twin’s trunks for any banned or joke items, right before the Start-of-Term Feast at the Entrance Hall.</p><p>Soon, they were joined by Ginny, George and the Ravenclaw duo, Luna and Hermione. Harry had met Luna Lovegood in his second year, as she had introduced him to the creatures dragging the ‘horse-less’ carriages- Thestrals. She was refreshingly different, her whimsical behaviour masking a tender soul and a sense of loneliness, which resonated with a part of Harry that still felt trapped with the Dursleys.</p><p>The studious Hermione had had a difficult time making friends, even among her intellectual housemates, due to her often abrasive and over-bearing personality. But Luna’s patience and inoffensive calm had been the perfect balance to win the bushy haired girl’s friendship. The muggleborn had clashed with Harry and the Weasley twins at first, even with Ginny occasionally. But dealing with Lockhart’s disastrous lessons and interacting over the lengthy study sessions for finals had gradually endeared her to the Gryffindors.</p><p>Luna had just started to narrate a tale of lost Grumpshunks when the owl posts arrived. Reminding himself to write to his grandmother in the evening, Harry was treated to the sight of the old Weasley owl landing on a bowl of syrup and drenching Ron with the sticky substance. Their entire table erupted into laughter as Ron’s cursing grew in volume, as did the flush in his face.</p><p>“You can still drop Divination,” Hermione tried to persuaded Harry yet again, as the Heads of Houses started to distribute the timetables. “It’s entirely useless, as many of our fifth years have advised. And I’m sure you will like Ruins, or even Muggle Studies. That one’ll be easy for you”</p><p>Hermione had been against Harry taking an elective she considered ‘frivolous’, even if it lightened his academic workload. They had had countless discussions regarding the merits of each elective, even exasperating Luna. Harry shook his head with small sigh; her nagging was annoying, even if it showed that she cared for her friends.</p><p>After receiving their timetables, Harry observed that he would share Charms and DADA with the ‘claws and Transfiguration and Herbology with the ‘puffs. At least he would have the Gryffindor trio with him for Divination and Nev &amp; Luna for CoMC.</p><p>Also, he could enjoy a nap first thing on Monday mornings as Binns droned about Goblin wars. This year was off to a great start!</p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Have you thought of your blessings for Samhain's ritual?” Daphne asked on the way to Potions. The corridor seemed much colder, for a sunshine-filled afternoon in October. “Confidence and Charm” Blaise smirked. “Girls can’t resist a charming man, after all.”</p><p>“Too much of honey could kill the fly,” came Pansy’s retort, referring to the oft-used expression.</p><p>“As could that sword-like-tongue of yours.”</p><p>Heir Blaise Zabini had, what was called a love-hate relationship with the Parkinson girl. More often than not, the two loved to engage in verbal sparring, that escalated to arguments, depending on their moods. 'It's this Italian blood of mine,' Blaise would joke, whenever asked the reason behind their squabbling. But they were quick to defend one-another from any attack by an 'outsider'.   </p><p>“Ria, what about you?” Daphne asked Asteria, ignoring the bickering pair. Each ritual participant could ask for blessings from Mother Magic, the highest deity of the Druidic religion, after the Evocation was completed. The ritual concluded with the Sharing and the Feast. As a 13-year old, this would be her first communal celebration; following the tradition of 13 being the age when wizards and witches were allowed to participate in public and private rituals. For Asteria, Samhain- celebrating the start of a new year, seemed the perfect initiation to her Celtic heritage.</p><p>“Clarity of Vision and Temperance in Judgements.” Asteria had thought about her blessings for the last few days. An odd dream had been plaguing her for the last few months and it was getting more vivid and intense. She’d thought of consulting her godfather, but she wasn’t sure if Lord Severus Snape-Prince could help her with the fragmented glimpses and vague feelings that lingered in her mind each morning after these dreams. She knew that Uncle Sev suspected her secret, as did her mother, but she’d never confirmed their unasked queries.   </p><p>“I’ll ask for Goodness of Fortune and Knowledge,” Pansy remarked as they entered the Potions dungeon.</p><p>“Today’s lesson marks the beginning of our foray into the world of poisons and their antidotes,” Professor Black announced as he entered the class, in lieu of a good morning. Though he was the Head of Slytherin House, Heir Regulus Black, younger brother of Lord Sirius Black, was a competent professor who was stern in dealing with his students, but fair and unbiased. Regulus had been captured by the Death Eaters and was rumoured to have been severely tortured, before his rescue by the Order members from the Lestrange Manor's dungeons after the Uprising. Since then, he had been appointed as the Potions Master in Hogwarts by the Headmaster. Due to his elder brother’s exile from the British wizarding society, he was in-charge of the Black Estate and often consulted his cousin Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) for legal matters.</p><p>“A warning to all students,” Professor Black’s voice turned cold as it rang out in the room. “Any student found smuggling the poisons prepared for testing the antidotes, outside this classroom, regardless of their intent,”-here his voice lowered- “will be punished most severely. With expulsion, if required.” There was pin drop silence. A simple hand movement made a bluish shield erupt in front of the door to the classroom. Impressive, Asteria thought. Maybe she could request her cousin to teach her some advanced wardings. After all, having a few tricks up her sleeve could prove to be beneficial, as experience had taught her.</p><p>Harry frowned as the Professor announced that the class would be divided into pairs for the entire duration of their antidote studies and they would have to submit a report along with a perfectly brewed pair of poison-antidote for the final grade in December. As he began listing the pairs, Harry prayed for an adequate partner since his own skills were quite average as far as Potions was concerned. He was shocked when he was paired with Asteria, the best Potions student in their year. By the time he settled next to her, she’d already acquired the ingredients needed for the ‘Medromin’ poison and its antidote.</p><p>“I can prepare the Medromin if you want, Heir Potter” came her soft voice as she deftly grouped their ingredients for ease of access. Among each pair, one had to brew the poison and the other antidote. Harry peered at the instructions at the classboard, the poison seemed more complicated than the antidote. “Of-of-course” he stammered out, nodding vigorously. He quickly started to chop the Anjelica herb, before he made a fool out of himself. I forgot to address her station, he berated himself. The proper forms of address had been one of the first lessons his etiquette tutor had taught him.</p><p>He kept glancing at her as he wracked his brains to come up with a topic of conversation, without making it seem forced or inane. She was quick and precise with her preparation, he observed, simply glancing at the instructions once-in-a-while as she stirred her cauldron. Harry was certain that she'd brewed it before. After all, Lucius had often been accused of shady dealings by many, especially in dark artifacts and potions. If not, then it was no wonder that she had been dubbed ‘Potions Prodigy’; many adding ‘Prickly’ to it due to her cold demeanour, bordering on arrogance. </p><p>“Your potion is two shades lighter, Heir Potter,” Asteria’s voice jolted him back from staring at her hands.</p><p>“Shit!” he cursed as he scrambled to find the step he has missed. Asteria was amused as the boy frantically tried to correct the missed third step, a futile effort since it further lightened the consistency of the potion. “If I may make a suggestion...” she interrupted his mumblings.</p><p>“Yes, please.” Eager green eyes regarded her with relief. Dicing the Boom berry to quarter of an inch measurements as per her suggestion, Harry addressed the incident that had troubled him. “House Potter offers their apology to you, Miss Malfoy, in recognition to the besmirch on your honour and reputation. This is regarding the unjust insinuation cast upon your family on Hogwarts Express.” Asteria glanced at the Potter Heir, acknowledging his formal apology with a slight nod and an “I accept on behalf of the House of Malfoy and myself.”</p><p>“You could call me Harry, you know” he offered with a smile. The smile turned to a frown as she kept quiet for a few moments, carefully adding the corrosive Doxy venom. Professor Black passed by their station with a nod.</p><p>“I would not wish to assume familiarity with an heir of a noble family” Asteria whispered, her grey eyes soft as she met his verdant gaze. “A formal introduction in the Olden Ways would be necessary for us to assume such familiarity.” She explained further, as he lowered his eyes with a quiet sigh. “But I wish to convey my heartfelt thanks for your offer.” He has a beautiful smile, she noticed when Harry grinned.</p><p>“You are quite good,” he blurted out, causing her to blush slightly. “At Potions, I mean.” Her small smile was worth making a fool out of himself, he thought.</p><p>She thanked him, adding “I was taught potions by my godfather from a young age. Unlike my brother, I shared his passion. So, he taught me most of his preferred techniques. He’s quite the genius when it comes to Potions, if I may say so.” She was quite close to her godfather, Harry realised as he saw her eyes sparkle.</p><p>He thought of his godfather and the recent letter he had received, after the latter’s arrival at London. Sirius was quite excited to meet him, as evidenced by the offer to meet during a Hogsmeade weekend. But Harry had declined; he wanted their first meeting to occur in his grandmother’s presence. As Professor Black called for the samples to be placed at his desk, Harry wondered how similar Sirius would be to his younger brother. Not much, judging by his grandmother’s tales.</p><p>By the time Harry had gathered enough courage to ask Asteria permission for correspondence, her friends had surrounded their table. Looking at Zabini’s smarmy face, he didn’t wish to be rejected in front of the Slytherin gang. As he made his way out of the classroom with Neville, he wondered if Asteria would reply to his letters out of courtesy; that is, if she agreed to write to him. He honestly wanted to know if she would like to be his friend, if he offered someday. Or would she accept it in order to avoid offending a Sacred Pureblood House? He knew she was polite and well-mannered at all times in public. But maybe she had a wild side to her, hidden from the world under the prim-n-proper Malfoy mask. Perhaps a spirit of 'badass feminism’ like the protagonists of the films he watched at the Potter Villa in Brighton. <em>It’s just my imagination</em>, he dismissed it, turning back to his conversation with Neville.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><a href="#_ftnref1" id="_ftn1" name="_ftn1">[1]</a> I hope you can awaken the cycle, my child</p><p><a href="#_ftnref2" id="_ftn2" name="_ftn2">[2]</a> Your love must bind the warrior to you. Only after you free the soul, can the path open.</p><p><a href="#_ftnref3" id="_ftn3" name="_ftn3">[3]</a> Physical and sexual assault suffered as a child, an attempted grooming of sort. Expanded upon later.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Potter Villa- equipped with electricity and muggle appliances; with a specialized warding system as support. Few purebloods or even halfblood families have the system as it's to support muggle electricity inside the residence and it's expensive.<br/>Potions ingredients are real, but rest I've written as needed. Its what I'll do for other Hogwarts lessons- a mix of both.<br/>Elvish language- tried my best at translation from English to Sindarin. Sorry if its not authentic.<br/>Prof Trelawney is a Delphina seer while Asteria is Sesanti. The latter are rarer and their powers are harder to control.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Headmaster Dumbledore glanced at the permission slips lying on his desk, waiting to be sent out to the parents of the Purebloods wizards and witches who followed the Celtic traditions. Request letters had arrived last week, to allow these students off the Hogwarts grounds for private ritual celebrations, in this case a Samhain Feast. Though the number of families had dwindled down over the years, as compared to the numbers from his tenure as a Hogwarts professor, it was still a substantial amount. And most of them had dark leanings, like the Malfoys and the Notts. He had tried to discourage such celebrations and create obstacles in the last two decades, like shifting the Halloween Feast to the night of Samhain and making the process of seeking permission for the students to attend private ceremonies as cumbersome and lengthy as possible. Yet these Pureblood families had persisted, involving the Ministry in their quest too. And of-course the Ministers, including that fool Fudge, had all wagged their tales infornt of the wealth and connections these Dark families flaunted. As if the Ministry was unaware of the rituals that were performed at these ‘<em>celebrations</em>’. Sometimes he wondered if he’d been foolish to turn down the offer of the Ministerial post.  </p><p>He’d always tried to save these students; these children trapped in the cycle of gaining love and approval from their cold-hearted Dark parents, to end up as canon-fodder for Tom Riddle’s ridiculous ideology. From introducing pro Muggle-born laws to promoting them to higher Ministry positions using his public influence to opposing laws that benefited pureblood families; from orchestrating the raids on these families (on account of hoarding Dark artifacts) to increasing the taxation on their business (approved by the Ministry to fill their own coffers), Dumbledore had done all he could to curtail their influence and change their ideological bigotry. He had tried the carrot-and-sticks method, successfully utilised by many muggles, to bring to heel these Death Eater sympathisers. The Daily Prophet’s insinuations and slanders had been a nice touch, he admitted. But even introducing Muggle studies, after forcefully scraping Introduction to Wizarding Culture, had not brought about the result he desired. The purebloods in the Wizengamot as well as the Hogwarts Governing Board held too much sway to bring about the much-needed changes that he thought the witches and wizards deserved.</p><p>They reminded him of the muggle insects that kept on infesting the houses, no matter how much the muggles tried to kill them.</p><p>A chime on his wards alerted him to the student who had arrived for the meeting. Harry Potter, the prophesied boy vital to the war with Voldemort. He scrutinized the raven-haired teen, who settled into the chair before him with the formal words, “Health and peace be blessed upon you, headmaster.” These words served to remind the headmaster that the buy had turned out to be very different from how he’d imagined the son of James and Lily Potter would be.</p><p>Albus had had a hard time understanding the motives and passions that drove Harry. In the last two years, the boy had grown in maturity and talents at a faster pace, his intuitions and reactions differing from the typical Gryffindor mentality. Oh, the rivalry with the Slytherins was as intense as ever, but the innate distrust and disgust that others like young Ronald and his friends, harboured against the ‘Dark Slytherins’ was absent. The bullying ways of the ‘Marauders’, the expected flaunting of his wealth and fame, the blind hatred of all things ‘Dark’, seeking thrills and adventures like curious teenagers- the boy had adopted none of these. After the debacle that had introduced him to the wizarding world and the highly sensationalised custody battle by Lady Euphemia against the Ministry (and the resulting damages claimed by the wily woman); the Headmaster had kept his distance from the boy during his first year. Dumbledore had found manipulating this wizard more difficult than he’d envisioned.</p><p>His professors were satisfied with his academic performance, including difficult ones Potions and Transfiguration. He’d requested Regulus to keep an eye on the boy, but that had not yielded much information. Direct approach had led to the same result, he was polite, attentive but quiet. But the last time he’d dived into Harry’s mind during a brief moment of lull in their conversation, he’d gleaned a few things that had troubled him.</p><p>After exchanging pleasantries, Dumbledore got down to the purpose of this meeting. “I know you must’ve heard a lot about the events that led to the murder of your parents, but I want you to know the truth.” He paused, watching pain war with curiosity in bright green eyes.</p><p>“The Dark Lord Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as I knew him before, brought havoc upon the wizarding world with his ideology. Since it aligned with their interests, many pureblood families supported him. Their ideology was much similar to the Muggle racist ideology.” Dumbledore drew this particular comparison in the hopes of inciting deep-rooted disgust. Harry gave a brief nod, eyes cast to the floor.</p><p>“Tom was clever in his initial campaigns, drawing sympathy and support from these wizards believing in the superiority of their kind. He was charming, persuasive and bold; projecting power that drew many to him like sheep for slaughter. His attacks were few and well-executed, never linked back to him. And many of the younger generation were swayed to his side. Naturally, their families followed.”</p><p>Dumbledore heaved a sigh, steepling his fingers on his desk. “It was a difficult time for all, especially those who opposed his ideals and were targeted for that. Those were dark days indeed. It took a long time for the Ministry to realise the danger posed by this wizard and even longer to act upon it. Of-course, it was made onerous by the fact that it was difficult to identify, capture and convict successfully these Death Eaters.”</p><p>“Why?” Harry enquired. “All of them have the Dark Mark, don’t they?”</p><p>The headmaster smiled, “Not all of them, only his trusted few. The ‘Inner Circle’, they called themselves. The others didn’t carry his mark”- he frowned- “Atleast, none we could uncover.”</p><p>Harry’s eyes widened; he’d never heard of a markless follower. “So, we really don’t know how many followed him?”</p><p>Albus’s stare pierced him. “That’s why the war was fraught with paranoia, betrayals and fear. Accusations filled the air; doubts were cast yet many escaped unscathed. Tom was clever; never granting those whose loyalty he suspected with his mark. Yet manipulating and exploiting each person who was foolish enough to seek him. We suspected, but lack of proof and bribery…”</p><p>A moment of silence. “Your parents were vocal in their opposition and fought alongside Tom's most ardent opposers. They were good people, brave and kind.”</p><p>“But why target them specifically?” The boy was too sharp for his own good, thought Dumbledore. But it was too early to reveal the prophecy.</p><p>“They went into hiding when your mother became pregnant. Many of us were being targeted in our houses, work places... specifically known members of the opposition. And your parents had been at the <span class="u">forefront</span> of our war efforts.” Dumbledore's stress upon it didn't escape Harry’s notice. His <em>expected duty</em> for future war.</p><p>“They were betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, a close friend. As you know, we had discussed Sirius Black, your godfather to be their secret-keeper as Fidelius Charm was cast to keep the cottage at Godric’s Hollow a secret. But Sirius had decided to switch to Peter, without informing anyone. Later, this fact had cast doubt upon Sirius during his trial, as many testified against him.</p><p>“Peter’s meek character never gave us any indication of him being a double agent. And after Sirius’s very public confrontation, he disappeared from the wizarding world and led to charges of his murder being added to Sirius’s offences.” The older wizard glanced at the empty portrait frames in his office. His special spell prevented any of them from returning back.</p><p>“Anyway, the important thing I want you to understand is that Tom saw the new generation of wizards and witches born to the ‘Light’ side as symbols of our hope and continued resistance. He sought to destroy us by killing them, as an example of the price we’d pay if we continued our efforts. He was merciless in this quest, raiding houses with pregnant witches or new-borns and killing them. Mostly our sympathisers and supporters. The details of few such massacres were enough to create the fear that became synonymous with his reign; stopping many strong offences planned against him.” He further explained that the Longbottom family (along with many other) had been attacked in the Uprising for the very same reason; sycophants fulfilling their master’s plan.</p><p>“If he was so successful, what happened the night he attacked us?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. Some nights when he suffered from terrible nightmares, the Dursleys were replaced by a flash of green light and a high pitch cold voice cutting across a faint feminine voice. The only clear words he could hear was the Killing Curse being cast. Before his introduction to the wizarding world, he’d thought of it as gibberish. Now, he understood it’s painful significance.</p><p>“Your mother’s sacrifice protected you, Harry. Her love for you, her desire to protect her beloved son cast a shield so strong that his Killing Curse reverted back to its castor and destroyed him. And it gave you this scar, proof of having had an Unforgivable cast at you.”</p><p>“But someone else must have jumped in before too, to save their loved ones from this curse. Why am I the only one to ever survive this?” There must have been other instances too, of taking the curse intended for others. Yet his case became unique.</p><p>“Casting <em>Avada Kedavra</em> is never easy, Harry. In fact, any Unforgivable Curse takes a lot of power and intent to cast, especially this one. And few can cast it well, like some of the Death Eaters. Like the Malfoys, Lestranges, Notts among others. Only those with intensive negative emotions in excess like rage, hatred etc. can cast one. The rest of the lot use excessive and prolonged torture that ultimately kills the victims. So, not many people have died due to this curse.”</p><p>Now Dumbledore’s voice changed, projecting earnestness. “The power of <span class="u">love</span> and <span class="u">sacrifice</span>,” he stated, stressing on the terms, “should not be underestimated, my boy. Its power may seem trifle but it’s importance should never be underestimated. <em>It turned the tide of the war.</em>” The last part was whispered.</p><p>“Your mother’s sacrifice not only saved your life but destroyed the most evil being our world had the misfortune to encounter. Those steeped in the Dark Arts, like Voldemort and his closest followers, can never understand the power of such emotions. And”- here he gave a kind smiled- “it is my hope that her son has those same qualities and that they’ll prevail when the time comes.”</p><p>“But he’s dead, right?” Harry frowned, leaning forward. Dumbledore got up and came to stand next to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Many believe so. But I’ve had my doubts for some years. He’s not gone, thought he might be powerless for now. Someday, we’ll have to face his threat again and hope that we can defeat him.”</p><p>Harry stood up as well and turned to face the headmaster. “He’ll come after me again, won’t he? To finish the task.”</p><p>“I fear so, my boy. I fear so. And you will face the hardest battle of your life. I’d hoped to spare you that pain.” Dumbledore debated whether to risk a quick dip into Harry’s mind, to gauge the effect of his words. But Harry shifted his gaze to Fawkes’s perch, lips pursed.</p><p>He’d known of-course, that Voldemort had been extremely dangerous and monstrous. But the peace and comfort he’d enjoyed the last few years, coupled with the belief that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had died, had led him to believe that the threat was over. But now…</p><p>Albus smiled internally as he advised the Potter heir to choose his companions wisely (steer clear of any with Dark leanings), start to prepare mentally for a war that would break out soon and arranged for some sessions during the year to ‘fill in any information gaps’. His subtle manipulation of the boy would soon come in handy. After all, this queen would be the ultimate sacrificed upon the chess board of war, after the fall of the necessary pawns. Sacrifices would have to be made for the greater good and no one knew that better than the headmaster. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Valerius rolled the parchment containing his Charms homework and stretched. The Slytherin common room was busy with many students completing their homework, playing games, reading or gossiping. Many would be surprised to see the dour and nasty Slytherins behaving like other children. His sister was doing her homework, sitting at the corner plush-seat with her friends nearby. He smiled when their eyes met across the room. She was excited for her first ritual; he knew despite her efforts not to betray so.</p><p>They’d been very close before he’d turned five. Sharing a huge nursery, playing together, drying her tears and making him laugh. She’d clung to him as a toddler; calling him ‘Ale’ when prompted to say Valerius, that later became ‘Val’. But his father had broken their ‘unnatural closeness’ after his fifth birthday, deeming him old enough to start learning the responsibilities of an heir. She’d changed after the illness she suffered at 5, becoming withdrawn and quiet. Of the two younger Malfoys, he’d struggled harder to master the burden placed upon him. She’d breezed through most of her lessons and was doted upon by their mother, while his father always seemed impossible to please.</p><p>Growing up, Val had resented her sometimes. Wishing she could have been an elder male child; leaving him free to enjoy life as a Malfoy. Even his father hardly found fault with her, whereas Lucius could hardly stop correcting and criticising his son. He knew his mother loved him but even in the privacy of their home, she was more comfortable and demonstrative with his sister.</p><p>Yet sometimes, he felt fiercely protective of his sister. She would soon become a lady in the eyes of the society, but maybe he’d always see her as the little blond who cried for ‘Ale’ when she scrapped her knees in the maze of their east garden. He’d protected her from many ugly secrets, the last one being their father’s affair with a Finnish half-blood.</p><p>Her smile turned to a frown as she noted the faint pallor of his skin and the dark bags beneath his eyes. Asteria raised an eyebrow, Valerius shook his head. Wordless glances traded, belying their renewed closeness as siblings. It had taken time and effort; their stay at Hogwarts leading the two Malfoys to realise that only siblings could be trusted instinctively. And a strong bond would not only protect them but could be turned into a great asset in navigating the murky waters of the Hogwarts pureblood community.</p><p>Asteria frowned unconsciously as she saw her brother leave the common room so early, carrying his parchments and a small black book. He usually held court with the senior Slytherins, especially the prefects and Quidditch team. But lately, he seemed tired, irritable and got into more fights with the Gryffindors than usual. He hardly spoke to her or took her counsel in private as was their habit.</p><p>Unknown to Asteria, the item that her brother had carried away and kept near him all day and night, wasn’t infact a book but a diary- with a tiny TMR engraved at the back-right corner.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>